


Emrys The Immortal

by thornsword (eeeeeeee)



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: BAMF!Merlin, Immortal!Merlin, Mentions of Death, No pairing - Freeform, Reveal Fic, They've been captured again, What a fucking surprise, everyone and their mother underestimates Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 18:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeeeeeee/pseuds/thornsword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, what a surprise - Arthur and the Knights Of The Round Table have been captured by a sorcerer… but Merlin may find out something about himself that he never wanted to know… immortal!Merlin reveal fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emrys The Immortal

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!
> 
> I love these kinds of fics, so I wanted to try writing one
> 
> It didn’t turn out as I expected, but oh well.
> 
> Word count: 3 668
> 
> Warnings: mentions of death and general people-being-locked-in-the-dungons things
> 
> Enjoy!

 

It all started out as a normal hunting trip. 

 

Well, it always does, doesn’t it?

 

Merlin had told Arthur, _repetitively,_ that he could tell someone was watching them, but he had just laughed it off.

 

_Now_ look where they were. Trapped by _yet another_ sorcerer who thought he could take over Camelot by capturing the King. 

 

Except this one wasn’t pulling any punches, he knew exactly what he was doing - he kept the knights in separate cells, kept them in the dark. For three days each knight would lament the loss of his brethren and conspire to escape the cells.

 

Gwaine was going to see if he could squirrel away a bone or something sharp from his next meal and unlock the shackles. The only thing he was served from then on was broth. Gwaine cursed his luck, and his own fault at underestimating the sorcerer. 

 

Percival was going to simply pull on the chains every time he was alone, surely they would come loose soon. The chains were reinforced with each meal.

 

Elyan’s plan was to trip up the serving boy - his meals were henceforth delivered by the serving boy sliding them under the door of his cell.

 

Each time a plan was formed, it would be thwarted by the time they had perfected it. 

 

The sorcerer sat gleefully on his throne, monitoring the knights each time a spike of hope fluttered through their hearts, and struck it before it manifested.

 

His plan was working perfectly. Patience, he had learned, was the key. He would not rush, he would not get sloppy. The next phase would take part tomorrow.

 

In hindsight, it wasn’t the knights- hell, it wasn’t even the _King_ he had to keep watch of. 

 

He locked Arthur and his manservant up in the same place. He need not worry about the boy - servants were rather lame in the intelligence area. 

 

He chained them to opposite sides of the wall and exited the cell silently.

 

Merlin could feel an enchantment prodding at his mind, coaxing it to tell him his plans to escape. He smiled, it was but a simple spell and was easily undone. He looked down in faux hopelessness and his eyes burned gold with magic as the spell dispersed.

 

“What are we going to do?” Arthur whispered urgently, “we need to gather the Knights and find a way out of here.”

 

“You don’t say,” drawled Merlin sardonically.

 

“Shut up Merlin.”

 

Merlin turned his attention towards the shackles. They bore no druid marks or magic-restricting spells. _He calls himself a sorcerer and yet he can’t even detect my magic_ , he scoffed. 

 

He bowed his head once again to shield his eyes from Arthur and loosened the cuffs from around his wrists. 

 

“Well I don’t suppose I could be of any help, Sire?” Merlin asked playfully.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes, Merlin had clearly broken his thread of thought. “I don’t think you of all people can do anything whilst chained up like- how’d you get out?”

 

“Just as it happens, he seemed to have underestimated how small my hands are,” Merlin beamed, rolling his wrists.

 

“Small and dainty, that’s exactly what you are Merlin,” Arthur quipped, smirking, “now get me out as well!”

 

Merlin rolled his eyes and took a small dagger out from his boot, Arthur’s eyes went wide in surprise.

 

“What? you think you’re the only one who takes a spare blade?” Merlin asked sarcastically.

 

“Merlin, you don’t know how to use a dagger - and how come he didn’t check you over? He took my spare dagger,” Arthur sulked.

 

“Everyone overlooks the servant,” Merlin sighed, reaching round to pick the lock on Arthur’s shackles.

 

Once they were free from the walls, Merlin used the knife - and a bit of magic -to unlock the cage. 

 

“Seems like you’re not totally useless after all,” Arthur praised.

 

“I am truly humbled by your words _Sire,”_ Merlin shot back sarcastically.

 

They decided against calling out, for someone might hear them. Arthur could tell all the dungeons would be on the same level, so he picked a random way and ran. 

 

“Halt! Intruders!” A guard ordered. 

 

Merlin stopped and faced the guard with trepidation. This guard was a sorcerer. 

 

The guard walked towards them, sword drawn and inexperience shaking the blade. Merlin and Arthur shared a look - they could take him out easy.

 

“You’re going back to your cells,” the guard ordered. Arthur glanced at Merlin briefly before jumping on the guard’s back, but he was soon blown off.

 

Clearly, he was a better sorcerer than he was a guard.

 

He thrust out his hand, palm-up at Merlin. “I curse you,” he promised in a low, threatening voice, “I curse you to a long and painful death as soon as your party is reunited.”

 

He chanted softly, so soft that Merlin couldn’t make out the words but the whispering choir accompanying the man wasn’t a good sign.

 

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, getting to his feet and running towards his friend, but he was too late. The curse hit Merlin at full speed and he was thrown back.

 

“No!” Arthur yelled, picking up the sorcerer’s sword and levelling at his throat. “Reverse it” he commanded, his voice thick “reverse it!”

 

The sorcerer just laughed. “The damage is done, young Pendragon” he laughed gleefully “your servant shall die as soon as you have your knights back!”

 

Arthur drove the sword down into the man’s chest with a roar of anger. His fingers feebly gripped the hilt, now embedded between his ribs.

 

Arthur looked over to where Merlin lay, coughing and ran over to help him. “Merlin! Are you okay?” he asked worriedly “is what he says true?”

 

“Thought you didn’t care?” Merlin asked jokily

 

“Answer the bloody question Merlin!”

 

Merlin’s mood sobered. “If the curse takes effect, then yes. I will die,” he affirmed. 

 

Arthur’s face became ashen and he sat down next to his manservant. The ultimatum he was faced with was probably going to be the hardest decision of his life.

 

Save his best friend? Or save the Knights of the Round Table, who were also his friends?

 

Surely he cannot choose between which of his friends live or die!

 

Merlin placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s ok Arthur, let’s find everyone else,” he said simply.

 

“Merlin, talk sense for once. You’ll die if we do that and you’re not of much to me when you’re dead,” Arthur contradicted.

 

“We’ll all die if we don’t find them!” Merlin reasoned, “please, Arthur, we can’t just leave them here to rot.”

 

Arthur gave his friend a pained glance, nodded solemnly and stood up.

 

“We can’t breathe a word of this to the others, you understand that right?” Merlin asked softly

 

“You don’t want to worry them,” Arthur stated. It wasn’t a guess, it was always obvious with Merlin - friends first, Merlin later.

 

They walked down the stone floor, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. None of the bravado Arthur felt before was there, only a deep, hollowing sadness. 

 

The first knight they found was Gwaine, thin and gaunt from the meagre portions of broth he had been fed. 

 

“Merlin! Arthur!” he cried jubilantly, “am I glad to see you!”

 

“What in heavens name did they do to you?” Arthur asked incredulously, taking in the gleeful knight’s frame.

 

“I haven’t eaten anything but broth for at least five days, it was horrible!” Gwaine lamented

 

“You’ve been here for five days?” Merlin asked, horrified “Arthur and I were both unconscious till just recently!”

 

Merlin slid the knife into the lock and jiggled it around a bit, ducking his head to shield his eyes as he used magic to get the lock open.

 

“When the devil did you learn how to do that Merlin?” Gwaine asked in awe.

 

Merlin shrugged. “Here and there I guess,” he replied evasively.

 

They ran on. 

 

One by one, they found and released the knights, and Arthur’s brow became more and more burdened as they did. 

 

“Arthur your silence speaks for itself, what’s wrong?” Leon asked, concerned.

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“Then why are you not rejoicing along with the rest of us?” he asked pointedly, “we are almost free!”

 

“Because we have only Elyan to find,” Arthur replied sorrowfully, “there’s only one more…”

 

Leon looked down at his King - his _friend_ \- with worry written across his features. He knew something was wrong, but he knew that no amount of asking would convince Arthur to tell him. 

 

Merlin gulped as he located Elyan. The druids, the crystals and Kilgarrah had all told him he was immortal, but this was the first time he was going to… put it to the test.

 

If he was honest with himself, he’d much rather die here than live forever. His destiny was fulfilled - Arthur was crowned King of Camelot, with Queen Guinevere by his side and magic was in the process of becoming legal.

 

Well, sort of. Maybe.

 

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them back. If it was to be that everything would fall into place, that his destiny could only be fulfilled with him dead, then so be it.

 

_Just please, please don’t say I’m immortal…_

 

He couldn’t bare the thought of having to live without Gias, without Gwen, the knights… _without Arthur…_

 

He sighed deeply and turned the corner. Elyan’s cell, and hopefully, his death, was close. 

 

Merlin stopped and turned to look at Arthur, who was standing right behind him. He nodded curtly and smiled, and Arthur returned the gesture.

 

He inserted the dagger into the lock and, bowing his head, used magic to open the door. Percival walked in and roused Elyan from his sleep. Just as his eyes opened, there was a laugh and the very sorcerer who trapped them appeared and locked both knights in the cage.

 

He stared at Merlin, seeming to look straight through him.

 

“I may not have been able to stop you escaping, servant - a momentary lapse in concentration, I assure you - but you and I both know what happens if you open that door.”

 

Merlin glared straight back at him. “I do,” he replied with conviction.

 

The sorcerer, clearly not used to this kind of behaviour from a mere servant-boy took a step back. “If you are aware of the consequences, then why open the door?” he spluttered.

 

“Sire Elyan and Sire Percival are my friends, not to mention Sir Gwaine, Sir Leon and King Arthur,” Merlin replied with a steady voice.

 

“Merlin… what’s going to happen?” Gwaine asked carefully, dreading the answer.

 

“Oh you don’t know?” the sorcerer mocked gleefully, “why that is simply precious, trying to protect your friends are we? Go on, servant-boy, tell them what will happen.”

 

Merlin glared at the sorcerer before swiftly ‘picking’ the lock, and opening the door. 

 

The sorcerer’s smile widened as Merlin dropped to the floor with a pained gasp. The knights crowded around him, trying to see what happened.

 

Merlin started spasming, and white froth spilled out of his mouth and onto the floor. Gwaine let out a shocked cry and knelt next to him, hands hovering just over his body. 

 

Everyone was panicking, whether they be trying to pin down Merlin’s flailing limbs or wake him up or just figure out what was wrong, but then a deathly calm fell over the group, the only sounds being from the knights bated breath.

 

Merlin lay still.

 

“A painful death, as promised,” the sorcerer giggled.

 

“You sick bastard!” Gwaine yelled furiously, tears licking at the sides of his eyes.

 

“Ah ah aah,” the sorcerer tutted, “he knew full well what would happen to him if you all reunited, just ask your glorious King over there.”

 

Arthur’s face was an expression of stone-like hatred. “It’s true,” he confirmed thickly, “Merlin was cursed to die a horrible death as soon as we unlocked the last cell.”

 

“AND YOU LET HIM DO IT?” Elyan shouted, how could Arthur have let Merlin _die_ just like that?

 

“I DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE,” Arthur roared, “I had NO choice but to let my best friend DIE because we would have ALL died ANYWAY. MERLIN DIDN’T GIVE ME A CHOICE.”

 

Everyone fell silent, except the elated cackling from the sorcerer. 

 

“Oh no, don’t mind me,” he giggled, “this is just hilarious!”

 

Percival rose to his feet slowly. “You find joy in… in murdering innocent people like this?”

 

“Yes of course, it’s simply delightful!”

 

Percival gave a cry of fury and lunged at the sorcerer, but he simply waved his hand and he was blasted back, landing hard on the stone floor.

 

“Anyone else?” he drawled.

 

The knights seethed in silence.

 

“I thought not,” the sorcerer stated flippantly, “now, if you would step away from the dead boy-“

 

“Never. I allowed him to walk to his grave, I’ll not abandon him now,” Arthur told the sorcerer defiantly.

 

“No, I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he sighed, and thrust out his hand, eyes burning gold.

 

They disappeared and were slammed down some way down the hall from where Merlin’s body lay.

 

_He was never going to get a funeral_ , Arthur realised mournfully.

 

———

 

Merlin’s eyes snapped open and he breathed in deeply. 

 

_He was alive._

 

He looked around and saw Leon being lifted up into the air by his throat, clearly choking, while the others battered on the sorcerer’s shield.

 

_Right. Evil sorcerer first, worry about immortality later._

 

**“Put him down”** Merlin ordered darkly, his voice resonating through the stone corridor.

 

Leon fell to the floor, coughing and clutching his throat. The sorcerer looked at him with fear.

 

“But-but I KILLED you,” he stammered, “you’re dead.”

 

**“I am not dead, and never will I be so again,”** Merlin replied, a steady, threatening edge to his voice, **“I am Emrys. I am the Last Dragonlord, I am the protector of the Once And Future King. I am immortal.”**

 

The sorcerer’s eyes widened so much that Merlin was sure they would pop right out of his sockets. “L-L-Lord Emrys!” he stammered fearfully, “I-I-I-I’m so terribly sorry! If I h-had known-“

 

**“A brave, strong man like yourself, grovelling,”** Merlin cut him off **“you bring about a taint on the title _sorcerer,_ just by being alive.”**

 

Merlin spared a quick glance at the knights and flinched at their expressions - betrayal, elation, confusion and ferocity flitted across their features so quickly they might have not been present at all.

 

Merlin swallowed his emotions and calmly raised his hand, eyes burning gold. He didn’t have much use for spells anymore - he was magic incarnate, the transformation of magic to spell via words of the old religion was not something he needed anymore.

 

The sorcerer fell to the floor. 

 

**“Quick, and painless,”** Merlin whispered, **“much more mercy than you gave me.”**

 

 

He gazed upon the sorcerer’s flaccid features for a short while before turning to face the guards. Raising his hand, all those who were under the sorcerer’s command disappeared. 

 

“Don’t worry” Merlin told the knights, who were now regarding him as a threat, “I teleported them to the forest, and I doubt they’ll be coming back here anytime soon.”

 

“M-Merlin?” Leon asked, “is that really you? What’s going on?”

 

“It’s me, Leon,” Merlin confirmed softly, “however much I wish it weren’t.”

 

The reality of his situation hit Merlin like a stampede of Camelot’s finest horses, and he sunk to the floor with a cry of despair. _It’s true,_ he thought, _I am immortal._

 

“…Merlin?” came Gwaine's voice cautiously. Merlin looked up, tears running down his face. 

 

He stood up slowly, swaying slightly on his feet. 

 

“I understand that is not the best time to tell you this,” Merlin started, “and I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I have magic. I was born with it and there’s nothing you or I can do about it.”

 

“You are a _sorcerer?!”_ Arthur screamed, “you have betrayed my trust from the moment you set foot in Camelot!”

 

“You forget Arthur,” Merlin smirked, “we were not the best of friends when I began my life in Camelot.”

 

“I have no want for your familiar speech, _sorcerer,”_ Arthur snarled. 

 

“I am a warlock, Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin corrected him loudly, “I am Protector of the Once and Future King, and you are he so whether you like it or not, _Sire,_ you won’t be able to rid yourself of me that easily.”

 

“Do not speak to me with such blatant disrespect or I shall have you arrested for treason!” Arthur warned, “it doesn’t matter if we are in Camelot or not.”

 

“Arthur…” Percival consoled, placing a hand upon his shoulder, “perhaps there is more to this then you are letting yourself hear.”

 

Arthur shrugged off the hand. “There is no greater evil in this world, than that of magic, Sir Percival,” the knight winced at the use of his formal title, “I thought you of all people would know that already.”

 

“I do Sire,” Percival agreed, “but I also know a lot of druid tales.”

 

“What possible use could serve from those fairytales about stupid things?” Arthur snapped. 

 

“There is a prophecy, My Lord, one that speaks of the Great Emrys, and the return of _good_ magic,” Percival explained. 

 

Arthur faltered. “Merlin… you have always told me of the greatness of my destiny…” he started, “does your assurance come from these prophecies?”

 

“They do,” Merlin nodded, “and you know as well as I that druid prophecies always come to pass.”

 

“I shall give you one minute, Merlin,” Arthur told him after a moment’s consideration, “and in that minute, you shall explain to me exactly what you have done during your time at Camelot.”

 

“Well Sire,” Merlin started, “First off, I hate the tavern…”

 

“I can vouch for that!” Gwaine interjected, “two sips of ale and the man keels over!”

 

“On the first day I came to Camelot, I saved you from a sorcerer - do you remember?” Merlin prompted, “she had just lost her son, and so she vowed to take revenge - I made the chandelier fall on her and pushed you out of the way of that dagger.”

 

“I remember,” Arthur whispered. 

 

“That was the first time I saved you, then came the poison and the…” he trailed off and opened his palm, a ball of white light growing in his hand. 

 

“That… that was _you?”_ Arthur spluttered, “you sent that for me? I thought you were unconscious! And _dying!”_

 

“I didn’t know I was doing it.”

 

“Then how…” Arthur left the question hanging in the air. 

 

Merlin shrugged. 

 

“I’m sorry, but have we missed something?” Gwaine asked.

 

“Merlin drank poison that was meant for me so I went into some caves and got chased by spiders,” Arthur mumbled off-handedly. 

 

“Thank you, that cleared everything _right_ up,” Gwaine drawled sarcastically. 

 

Merlin sighed. “Do you mind it I sit down?” he asked, “or are you going to run me through?”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes and sheathed his sword before slumping to the ground and running a hand through his hair in exasperation. 

 

Merlin shuffled so his back was up against the wall. “I can’t even remember all the times I’ve saved your thick neck,” he grumbled, “I mean, it’s been seven years - what do you expect?”

 

“We’ve got time.”

 

So they sat, and Merlin recounted the secret life he’s lead these past years. 

 

Releasing the dragon - _that was you?! -_ defeating Sigan - _you did what?! -_ the old man - _you used us as a step ladder! -_ and all the encounters he had with Morgana. 

 

By the time he had finished, it was dawn. Everyone was exhausted and hungry, but one thing was clear:

 

Merlin was the bravest, most heroic, selfless person they had ever known. 

 

“Merlin, I…” Arthur started, but the words got stuck in his throat. What could he _possibly_ say after all that?

 

Merlin gave a small smile in response, before standing up and stretching out his sore limbs. 

 

“Well, I suppose I should find some more firewood,” he twittered, still on a high from admitting everything, “… that is, assuming I’m not fired?”

 

“I don’t think I’d live two seconds if you were,” Arthur smiled.

 

“Can’t you just… magic a fire?” Elyan asked, gesturing to the middle of the circle they had formed.

 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Merlin shot down, “you need to have substance for anything to be there.”

 

“I don’t get it.”

 

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t expect you to,” he replied. 

 

“Can I help?” Gwaine offered, smiling in a way that Merlin _knew_ something was up. 

 

They set off through the corridor, and it was barely five seconds before Gwaine broke the silence:

 

“Do you know the pranks we could pull on Arthur with this? you’ve been holding out on me!”

 

“I heard that!” Arthur’s voice echoed down the hall. 

 

Merlin laughed, tipping his head back. Finally, the weight of his magic was off his shoulders and, even though it had taken some time, Arthur didn’t resent him from it.

 

He groaned, realising that Arthur was probably going to double his chores list. 

 

_“You can do everything twice as fast with that magic of yours, can’t you?”_ he’d say. 

 

Ah well, he was a prat anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this certainly is not my best. 
> 
> I think I got a bit ahead of myself somewhere and everything just bunched up…
> 
> oh well
> 
> Please tell me what you thought!
> 
> As always, 
> 
> Thornsword.


End file.
